~ A Joy Warrior's Journey
Ask any yellow zinnia.
The whole point of it all is to shine.
Just to stand, facing the sun,
your arms wide open to the sky,
willing to accept whatever it sends you,
sending it, in return, all that you are,
your whole light, your whole song.
And even that is such small thanks
for this unspeakable moment of being.
Okay, I gotta be straight with you. The hard part of talking about how to bring more happiness into your life is that a bunch of you thinks happiness is some kind of frivolous, self-indulgent thing, irrelevant to life in the real, grown-up world. So maybe you’re just skipping over this little series of letters.
Don’t.
Happiness matters. Regardless of what you might think you want out of life, happiness is at the core of it. It’s what lets us feel at peace with the world, with ourselves, with each other. It gives us the energy to take care of ourselves and those we care about. And it helps tip the balance of the world in a positive direction. It opens us to greater creativity, better problem-solving, improved health, and more authentic communication. We contribute more when we’re happy.
And today I’m going to give you another key to unlocking your happiness. In addition to the time it takes to read the following instructions, it will only take you about five minutes to do—and if you’re like most people, you’ll be happier when you finish than when you began. Do take those five minutes, won’t you? Just for fun?
Here’s how it goes. First, do a little self-inventory. Ask yourself how you feel overall right now—on a scale of 1 to 10. Just do a quick scan of yourself and make a mental note of it.
Now you’re ready to begin. You’re going to make a list – one you can keep. So get a sheet of paper and a pen or open a blank page on your word processor, or make a new note on your notes app. (If all else fails, you can list items on your fingers, as if you’re counting things.) Then set a timer of some kind for five minutes.
As soon as you start the timer, begin listing everything you can think of that makes you happy. (Note: Only list things that genuinely do make you happy—not the things you think should make you happy or that somebody else thinks should make you happy. Your happiness is a one-of-a-kind, wholly original, unique-to-you thing.)
It helped me to imagine I was completing the sentence, “I feel happy when . . .” But you can simply ask yourself “What makes me happy?” The key is to list anything and everything that pops into your head. If you get stuck, ask yourself, “What else?”
More hints: Don’t neglect the small things. List things that give you comfort, things that make you laugh, things that delight your senses, things that help you relax, things that make you feel satisfied, things that make you feel connected, or accomplished, or energized.
Don’t feel rushed. Just let thoughts and memories come to you when you ask yourself to run a little inventory for you. Notice the things that arise and the feelings that come with them. Spend the whole five minutes letting the answers and images come—even if your pace slows to snail speed or you can’t think of a thing after the first minute. Just enjoy what arises and make a little note of it.
At the end of the five minutes, stop and note how you feel. As I mentioned, most people will feel happier. But some will feel frustrated or sad or stuck. That’s okay; we’ll deal with that in later letters. Save your list somewhere that you can find it so you can refer to it later.
That’s the whole exercise.
And even though the exercise is finished after five minutes, chances are your brain will keep pointing out more things to you as the day goes on. All week, for that matter, you may very well be noticing or remembering things that make you happy. Consider that a bonus, and feel free to add more things to your list. We’ll play with your list again in a later letter.
Remember, we’re doing this to make the world a better place. Your world. The world you share with everybody else. So grab yourself five minutes, and let’s get to rockin’ it!
Wishing you a week of delightful discoveries!
Warmly,
Susan
Image by Rona Abdullah from Pixabay
On those days when you just feel so great, hon,
when your whole body feels so fine,
when the sky is so clear and the sun is so warm,
and everything’s singing it song,
you go right ahead and strut your stuff, babe,
dance through the world like you own it.
I walk very slowly, one gentle step at a time.
The quiet of the morning requires it.
I stop in tall grasses dotted with chicory,
the season’s first, its petals blue as sky,
and smile to see the buds of water lilies,
poking out from beneath their lily pad leaves
like round little lemons, the lake’s still waters
mirroring them. Here, despite everything,
the Yes remains, breathing its spacious peace,
just to remind us.
At noon on the last day of July
I got to pick them. I’ve been waiting
and watching for a couple weeks,
ever since my friend invited me
to help myself. “Nobody here,”
he said, “is going to pick them.”
He drove me around the place
in his golf cart to show me where
they hid. Then we waited.
And today was the day.
A hot one, and dry. The berries
looked like jeweled globes,
and my mouth watered
at the mere thought
of their tart juice exploding
on my tongue. I reached through
the tangles of thorny branches,
watching the ripe ones fall into my hand
at the slightest touch, the sun white
and dazzling in my eyes, birds telling
each other that a woman was down there
picking berries. But she was leaving some.
They made me laugh. I filled my bowl.
“You don’t get to pick wild blackberries
very many times in your life,” I told my friend,
thanking him for the fine adventure.
“Especially at high noon on the very last day of July.”
Queen Anne spreads her ivory lace
across the meadows, her black-red ruby
proclaiming her right to rule.
The grasses bow to her fragrance.
The clover rises to applaud.
The sky sends popcorn clouds
to mirror her beauty. Ebony wasps
and iridescent flies buzz their joy,
and all the meadow sings.
Oh, how the meadow sings!
The seasons don’t follow our calendar.
They have one of their own. In theirs,
it’s not here one day, gone the next.
It’s more like a spiraling flow, the ending
of one song blending into the next,
changing its tone, introducing a new theme.
A note here and there, a phrase,
a fragrance, a measure of unexpected
heat or cold alerts you if you are awake
to such things. Here, in late July,
the tree of heaven is showing off
thick clumps of rosy, ripening seeds
and the corn is tall in the fields.
It’s not clear at first what is real, what is dream,
what is fog, what is hilltop, what is cloud, what is sky.
Illusion rolls into illusion. Let it be. The dawn requires
no naming, no interpretation. It carries its own light.
Watch. Listen. Breathe.
It’s early afternoon as I climb the slope.
This morning two doe ascended this very trail
and the woods, now silent, save for the barking
of a dog on the other side of the valley,
were filled with birdsong, I had a conversation
with the cardinal. We often chat. Birds nap,
or so I think, mid-day. I’ve long thought
them wise. I like to picture them cradled
in this green, a gentle breeze rocking them,
dreaming little birdie dreams. I place my steps
softly, lest I disturb them. I rest at the base
of the ancient tree I call Mother Maple.
She stands near the crown of the slope
her broad limbs raised in celebration
to the sky regardless of the season.
She has a fine view. I pat her trunk
with my open palm, her life force flowing
into me bright as the afternoon sun
and as warm, as glad. She is why
I climbed. Just to say an up-close hello
on this lush, warm day in late July.
A while back, a friend of mine said, “I don’t know why you bother writing that stuff. Nobody does any of those things anyway.” That was, I knew, probably close to the truth of the matter. How many hundreds of books and articles had I read without taking action?
But I knew, too, that just because somebody doesn’t take action right now doesn’t mean they never will. Seeds grow roots and sprout in their own right time. Besides, learning about ways to live a happier, more satisfying life at least gives you hope that it’s possible.
One of my favorite quotes about making life-alterations is this one: “If you want to change your life, you have to change your life.” Think about that for a minute. It’s the very crux of the problem. We’re comfortable where we are, for better or for worse, and learning new patterns doesn’t come easily. It means having to let go of a familiar pattern to make room for the new one. The new pattern is scary; it’s the unknown, after all. It sets our nerves to tingling just a bit.
So to be honest, I don’t expect that many of you actually set an intention to be happier, or tried looking ahead at your day before you got out of bed, imagining what it would feel like to be happy as you did each thing you expected to do. And that’s okay. The seed is planted.
I have a bigger seed for you this week. It’s one with a tougher shell. It goes by the unpopular name “Accountability.” But hold on—this isn’t the kind of accountability where you’re held responsible by some stern external authority. It’s a whole lot more inviting than that, and it’s what powers your intention to be happier. Here’s how happiness researchers Foster and Hicks describe it:
“The brand of accountability that happy people talk about . . . is a feeling that we are in charge of our own lives and that no one else has power over us. It’s honoring our right to craft a life for ourselves that is rewarding, rich and exuberant. It’s the assumption that no matter what life presents we have the ability to move ahead—to do something good for ourselves, to make a difference, to have an effect.”
Here’s what it means. Even under the most difficult circumstances, you refuse to see yourself as a victim. YOU are in charge of your life. You give up blaming other people or circumstances or events—past or present. You give up complaining that they are the cause of your misery or discontent. Instead, you forge ahead, taking whatever actions you can to improve the quality of your life, here and now. And that can be as easy as remembering to smile.
The tough shell that encases this power seed is the necessity to become aware of when you’re blaming someone or something else for your lack of happiness, or of blaming something that happened in the past. What happened in the past is passed. It’s not here now, except in the form of a repeated story that you tell yourself (and probably tell others) as a ‘reason’ why you’re limited and miserable.
Blame serves no purpose, Foster and Hicks point out. It doesn’t ever get us what we truly desire.
One way to overcome blaming is to ask yourself, “What was my part in it? How can I change things? What can I learn from this experience?”
Key times to look for a tendency to blame is when you’re becoming defensive, or when you’re feeling envy, or jealousy, or resentment. Questioning the part you played in the situation gives you the power to move through it authentically instead of getting mired in needing other people to be different than they are. Catch yourself wanting to put all the blame outside yourself and then ask, “Is this how I want to be? Is this really the response that’s going to solve things?”
Accountability is honoring your right to make choices, choices that align with your intention to be the most contented, capable, authentic person you are capable of being, choices for happiness.
I wish you a week of willingness to let go of defensiveness and blame and to embrace control of your responses to life in their stead.
You’ll deserve some fun as a reward, so next week we’ll hunt for the things that delight you.
Warmly,
Susan
Image by Frauke Riether from Pixabay